


Sympathy For The Devil

by Swing Set in December (swing_set13)



Series: Headfirst for Halos [2]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-10
Packaged: 2017-11-03 10:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/pseuds/Swing%20Set%20in%20December
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crossroads deals have their consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sympathy For The Devil

Laura spent a week giving him the cold shoulder. Slamming motel doors and giving his car the same rough treatment. Derek takes it all in stride. An angry Laura was better than a dead Laura. He can still see her lifeless body when he closes his eyes. Blood seeping from the shell of her body. He still washes his hands raw to get rid of her phantom blood underneath his nails. 

His uncle understood. Didn't approve but he's hardly known for the best decisions in the family.

It's on the Monday when she breaks her self-imposed silent treatment that's been hovering over them since her untimely death. The day heralds everything now. Laura died on a Monday. He sold his soul on a Monday. He’ll probably be dragged to hell on a Monday, he muses sardonically.

"I'll get you out of this," she declares without preamble as they drive through another nameless town. The signs blurring together after the first hundred miles. He's steadily been putting more distance between that derelict ghost town.

"No," he says. He knows his eyes are wild. He's barely been able to sleep at all this whole week. He's been standing vigil at Laura's door for most of it. Listening for her soft snores. Any sign that she's alive.

Her icy glare could send a poltergeist running. "I will save you," she says it the same way one comments on the inevitable. The sky is blue. The sun sets in the west.

"You'll die, and seeing as I did this to keep you alive-" he declares, looking ahead at the endless highway in frustration.

"I didn't ask to be saved!" she yells, her voice cracking at the end.

He pulls the car over before he drives them into a ditch in a fit of anger.

"You were dead," he says, his voice shaky.

"I knew the risks," Laura says, staring ahead. Her hands balled into fists.

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, he'd close his eyes except he can't help but see her lifeless corpse. "You're my sister."

"And you’re my brother. I'm the one that pulled you from the house fire, you're my responsibility," she says, like she always says. It grates onto Derek's last nerve.

"Maybe I don't want to be," he growls. "Look at it as your way out, you never wanted this life-"

The resounding smack to his face doesn't come as a surprise.

"I didn't want a lot of things, but this is our life Derek. And I won't see you waste yours."

"It wasn't a waste," he says softly looking at his sister, his eyes waters.

Laura gives a watery sniffle as she leans over and hugs him. Derek knows it's not over. But for now, it's enough.

\---

It's a run of the mill salt-n-burn. Laura is still only talking to him when it's absolutely necessary. Her smiles are few and far between. Derek still relishes in the fact that she's alive, albeit angry. But it's not the first time she's been angry at him. Hales have a long history of anger management issues. Derek knows Laura can't stay angry for long. She usually has to write a reminder post-it to why she hates Uncle Peter. Derek used to burn them.

It's a brief reprieve to be in the Camaro without her hovering in a cloud of judgmental displeasure. Derek's so wrapped up in his brooding thoughts of sabotaging whatever Laura is planning that he nearly swerves into a tree when the crossroads demon appears in the passenger seat. Laura's spot.

"Trouble in paradise?" he says jovially with a cheeky grin.

"What the hell?" Derek growls as he jerks the car back into the right lane.

"Not for another 328 days," snarks the demon, drumming his hands against the dash.

"Then leave me be," Derek barks, glaringly.

"Hey, watch the road," the demon grumbles, hastily donning his seat belt. "Not all of us have a death wish."

Derek's fingers inch for his glock. The demon actually rolls his eyes.

"I'm allowed to look in on my investment, you know," the demon says blithely, arranging the seat belt and rolling down the window.

"My year isn't up," Derek bites out, the tenseness in his shoulders increase ten-fold. He takes the next turn, cutting towards the motel. Laura's alone there. Vulnerable.

"Consider me curious," the demon continues and doesn't bat an eye at the jump in acceleration. "And as much fun as it would be road tripping with a hunter such as yourself, I'd rather not be in the limelight. But someone's being a nosy Parker. And I can't protect your interests when a hunter is playing at Nancy Drew."

"I told her to stop," Derek growls.

"How noble, all very heroic," the demon snorts. "But I'm a low key guy."

"Thought you were king of the crossroads," Derek says, rolling his eyes.

"Am I?" the demon's eyes flicker black like it's an afterthought. Like he's not used to being inside some poor soul's meat suit. He goes from utter stillness to a cacophony of twitches and movements. Like he needs to go through a whole range of human movement before he gets distracted and just stares out to the rolling countryside. "Well some people are awfully interested in your lil' contract and it would be a good idea not blabbing about who has it, it wouldn't be good for business."

"I don't know who you are," says Derek in irritation. He has been closed-lipped to all of Laura's questions.

"You can call me Stiles," the demon drawls, licking his lips and grins like Derek's on the outs of a joke. A real doozy of one. "And let's just say, I'm concerned. Laura's safe as long as you keep your side of things. The Hales are a pet project to some zealots. I personally think they're douchebags."

"Project?" Derek asks.

"You think Laura's visions are normal?" says Stiles incredulously. "I know your uncle has his suspicions. You should ask your big sis about what happened in that ghost town, before she got gutted."

"She doesn't remember."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Keeping secrets already."

Derek growls and reaches for his gun but the demon's hand is a heavy weight of warm iron on his wrist. The power thrumming through him is unlike any demon Derek has tangled with. His skin feels warm and his blood thrums in his veins. The demon seems unconcerned, merely leaning into Derek's personal space and his warm brown eyes locking with Derek's green ones.

"Despite what you think you know, Azazel has plans. And your little heroic rescue may have been a blessing, can't have two generals heralding the apocalypse. Kate's already in too deep. Power hungry." He lets go of Derek's hand and Derek catches himself before he leans into the touch. Stiles seems to remember something and toys with his shirt sleeves in utter fascination. Derek is perplexed at the odd dichotomy of the demon. He goes from forgetting he has a body to being completely curiously enamored with it.

"Why do you care?" His voice crackling at the end. Derek has gotten more information from Stiles than any interrogation he's sat in on with his uncle.

"I like the world, it's got curly fries, ice cream and fast cars, do you know what hell has?" Stiles asks and Derek glares at him and turns his attention back to the road.

"Well, spoiler alert, it has nothing. Well, nothing interesting, and this planet is fascinating."

And he's gone. Derek could have sworn he heard a rustle of feathers.

\---

They always meet at a park. Stiles has a good view of the swings from his spot on the pine bench underneath a large maple tree.

"You're late," he says when Lydia joins him.

"Fashionable," she replies, flouncing her red tresses.

Stiles rolls his eyes.

"I've heard a dirty rumour," she declares, leaning back to enjoy the sun.

"Are there any other kind?" Stiles grins.

"You've been lurking around the Hales," she says. "Mooning over the younger one. That broody one in the jacket."

"And who told you that?" He stills before remembering to move. Humans move. Demons move. He needs to blend. Lydia is flawlessly human when she sets her mind to it. And the perfect demon when pressed.

"I took care of it." Lydia grins, her lips look even more blood red in the sun. "He won't be talking to anyone for a while."

Stiles frowns.

"You used to be much more fun," sighs Lydia. "And careful. Some still remember where your Grace is."

Stiles touches his chest instinctively and Lydia eyes him shrewdly, her own hand twitching at something neither of them have anymore.

"You should have had the common sense to kill them like I did," she says.

"We can't all be like you," he replies, closing his eyes. Lydia knows why he didn't. Scott's still his brother. No matter what side he's on.

"Damn right," she hums in agreement, knocking his shoulder to remind him to move. Who knows who's watching.

**Author's Note:**

> This plot revolves around my idea of Stiles, being an awesome fallen angel with a heart of gold and the snark that outclasses any demon. But I always wanted to write a Supernatural fusion with Teen Wolf. So here's me, trying to combine two of my loves together in an unholy romance. Beta'd by the lovely and sweet emocezi because I've been getting snark about my grammar. And that hurts my soul. Comments are love! They are my life blood when coming to writing. I adore reading them and they are my hydration packs to keep writing more. And if you can't spot the flagrant Supernatural references, dialogue and plot points, then we can't hang out anymore. Just kidding.


End file.
